Those things will kill you
by Ms.Informed13
Summary: "Can I get a pack of Marlboro lights? But rung up separately." Santana asked dragging her eyes down to her wallet as she began pulling out some cash to buy the pack. "No." The response made Santana's eyes jump up to meet the blonde's, "Excuse me?" Oneshot Quinntana story for you all. Short and cute, give it a shot.


**A/N- Ok, it's publishing dump day! I've got all these one-shots I half wrote and never uploaded and I'm po****sting them in protest of Superbowl Sunday cause I can't root for either team (I'm from Colorado and so I can't like the Seahawks, and after deflate-gate I can't like the Patriots.)**

**This is just a little thing of Quintana, hopefully you'll enjoy it!**

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Santana flew like a bat out of hell into the parking lot, leaving her car haphazardly occupying three spaces. She jumped out. Snatching her wallet off the front passenger seat, she smoothed down her unruly brunette flyways and half sprinted into the store.

_Damn dictator lawyers, abusing interns, a million and two 'supply runs'._ She thought to herself as she madly stomped through the automatic doors of the 7-11. She was so focused on cursing the lawyers at the firm she was interning at for sending her to the convenience store like their own personal assistant, that she didn't even notice the only other person in the store- the woman working the cash register- greet her as she walked throughout the doors.

Fuming, Santana marched straight for the coffee station in the back and began filling up cups. She knew that the lawyers were just using her to get a cheap laugh and they enjoyed watching her struggle, but she also knew that if she wanted to make it as an attorney she would have to play the game and work her way up.

Once she had gotten eight cups filled to the brim and secured them with the flimsy plastic lids, she arranged them in the large drink carriers so she could easily make her way to the front to check out.

"Is that all?" the cashier asked. She was young and beautiful, her blonde hair fell to her shoulders. It was immediately clear to Santana that the girl was destined for so much more than working the register at a 7-11 at ten thirty on a Wednesday night. She made up her own story of why the girl was working here- she was putting herself through college while studying business and one day when she graduated, she would open her own small business. Something cute like a cupcake bakery.

Santana realized she must have been standing there blankly staring at the girl for a little too long when the blonde cleared her throat. Santana's eyes shifted over her shoulder to the cigarettes lined up like soldiers behind the register. The cashier could see the internal debate waging as the other woman sucked her bottom lip in and lightly chewed on it, an old nervous habit she presumed.

"Can I get a pack of Marlboro lights? But rung up separately." Santana asked dragging her eyes down to her wallet as she began pulling out some cash to buy the pack.

"No."

The response made Santana's eyes jump up to meet the blonde's, "Excuse me?"

"Those things will kill you." the blonde had a teasing edge in her rough voice and Santana had to keep herself from melting at the way her hazel eyes lit up as she leant an elbow on the counter so she was close enough for Santana to smell her perfume. It was light and simple, she smelled like vanilla and orchids.

"Well," Santana replied looking at the name tag pinned to the smock the blonde was wearing, "Amber, I think I can deal with that."

"My name's not Amber." she said, completely dropping the issue of the cigarettes for now.

"Well then why the hell are you wearing a name tag that says 'Amber'?" Santana sighed slumping slightly against the counter.

"Because this place has two name tags. Amber and Brad. Girls wear the Amber, boys the Brad. I don't think they've gotten new ones since it opened." the girl smiled, her hair fell forward to frame her face and spill easily across her cheek, it took everything Santana had not to brush it behind her ear.

"Then what is your name?" she had no idea how she had been trapped in this conversation when all she was trying to do was checkout, but she couldn't find it in herself to be annoyed. Santana was actually enjoying this banter with the stranger.

"Quinn." the blonde said extending her hand in a ridiculously formal gesture, "And yours?"

The Latina shook her hand and stamped down the instant sparks that went straight through the core of her, "Santana."

"Nice to meet you."

"You too."

They remained in silence for a minute, just staring at each other, leaning forward on the counter so they were breathing the same air before Quinn broke the spell, "How many coffees have you got?" She asked, backing up slightly so she could see her register.

"Eight." Santana bit out, actually mourning the loss of proximity.

Quinn hit a few buttons and Santana lost herself in watching how gracefully the blonde's finger danced across the keys, "That will be twelve ninety five." She handed over the company card that one of the partners had given her before she left and watched as Quinn raised an eyebrow at the name on the plastic, "So you're a lawyer."

It was more a statement then a question, but Santana felt compelled to answer it just the same, "Almost. I'm in my second year of law school right now. I'm just an intern for now."

The blonde's hazel eyes looked at her appraisingly, "You look far too young to be in your second year already. Especially if you smoke."

Santana laughed shortly, "I graduated early, and smoking keeps me young."

"I'm pretty sure modern medicine would disagree with you. From high school or college did you finish early?"

Santana couldn't believe she was having such an in depth conversation with a cashier at a convenient store this late at night, but she couldn't find herself to care, "Both."

"Why?"

The brunette chewed on her lip again, it made Quinn's eyes dance down to the full pink lips and unconsciously lick her own, "I was ready to move on. I never spend more time than I need to somewhere if there isn't anything left for me."

Quinn nodded slowly. Her eyes seemed distant and Santana had to bite her tongue to not ask her what she was thinking.

"So can I get my cigarettes now?"

The cashier glanced up above Santana's head and sighed reluctantly, "I suppose." She took her time in turning to the locked glass cabinet behind her and grabbing the pack that Santana had asked for. She placed it on the counter before ringing it up, "Do you need a lighter as well?"

"No." Santana replied a little shamefully, already handing over the money. She remembered exactly how much the cigarettes cost and didn't need to wait for Quinn to tell her.

When the transaction was complete, Santana lingered just a bit longer than she needed to, shuffling the coffee holders. She couldn't explain it, but she didn't want to leave just yet.

Quinn seemed to sense the hesitation, "Do you need anything else?"

"No." Santana didn't have much choice after that than to make her way out of the store and across the parking lot with her precariously balanced coffees. Once she secured the drinks, she was reluctant to return to the office. Opting to lean against the outside of her car, Santana opened the pack of cigarettes and shook one out. It had been a couple of weeks since she had last smoked, she was trying to quit, but the stress from the internship wasn't helping anything.

Just as she was lighting the stick, she caught a flash of blonde in the corner of her eye, and suddenly Quinn was there leaning against the car next to her.

"My shift just ended." The girl said by way of explanation.

"Oh." Was all the normally eloquent Latina could come up with.

"Can I get a cigarette?" Quinn eyed the one between Santana's fingers.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"These things will kill you."

"I think I can manage."


End file.
